Deux Semaines
by 20YearsofSnow
Summary: When Théo SaintMichel was aware that her brain acted differently than most people’s, she often thought that it was a unique condition, that no one else’s mind was as fractured as hers. That, of course, was before she met Eponine Thénardier. R&R. no flames
1. Une Misérable

A/N: This story is supposed to take place during the two weeks Eponine spends in jail after "the affair," as she called it. It is Eponine/OC femmeslash, which means no flames please! It's a waste of your time and mine. I do not own Les Miserables, neither the play, the book, nor the (bad) movie. Please read and review! This is my first piece of FF, so I would really like some feedback. Enjoy!

* * *

Théo Saint-Michel shut her eyes tightly and groaned as the morning sun shone through the single barred window of her cramped, dank cell. She tried to block the light by rolling on her side and covering her face with one arm, but she knew she would never get back to sleep now that she was awake. She sat up stiffly on the hard bunk, shook her matted blonde hair out of her eyes and blinked groggily. Théo's stomach growled but she ignored the perpetual hunger, which was her only companion now. She was used to going hungry on the streets of Paris. Often she wasn't able to scrounge something for herself and her little brothers to eat for several days at a time. But her hunger here was made worse by the cold, the fear, and the continual lack of sleep. She shivered as she tried to calculate how much she had slept the night before. Four hours? Three? Who knew?

It had been like this every day of the long month Théo, or prisoner 24.602 as she was now known, had already spent in Les Madelonnettes, the Parisian women's prison. She would spend most of the day sitting on her bunk while staring into space and alternating between worrying and convincing herself that her brothers, Gervais and Raphael, would be able to survive without her.

After her parents died, Théo suddenly found herself to be Raphael and Gervais' only protector. When she was born, her father named her Théodore because he had desperately wanted a son, but seven years later he got his wish with the birth of Gervais. Gervais was nine, and already outspoken and independent. He liked the freedom that living on the streets gave him, and thrilled in the fact that he didn't have to go to school or church like rich children did. Théo never reminded him that school wasn't a chore, it was a wonderful privilege that they did not have the good fortune to receive. Théo had always resented the fact that she couldn't read and didn't understand why a person wouldn't want to attend school if he could. But she liked to see her brothers happy and safe, and did her best to keep them that way, even if it meant letting them believe falsehoods. She always just sat and smiled at his precociousness when Gervais got to talking like that.

Raphael, or Raphie as they called him, was five and more of a baby than a _gamin_ like his brother. He was sensitive and shy, and depended on Théo and Gervais for everything. Her brothers had always depended on Théo to make things right. She was the only one they had. She took care of them. _Where are they? _Théo wondered, not for the first time.

Common sense told her that another _gamine_ or _gamin_ would find them and look after them until she could come back. _Until they let me out of this hellhole, _she thought, wrinkling her nose at a particularly nasty smell wafting in from one of the nearby cells. But another, nagging voice in her mind reminded her of all of the dangers in Paris, and speculated on how long two unprotected little boys could last on their own. There were plenty of criminals and murderers, she knew. Even if they weren't injured or killed, how would they find food? Where would they sleep? _Don't be ridiculous_, she told herself. _They'll stay under the bridge like always. And if it rains, Gervais' friend Gavroche has that elephant of his, which is definitely big enough for two more, even with the hundreds of rats. Besides, Gervais probably remembers the tricks you taught him, too. They'll be fine. They're tough and smart like you taught them to be._

Those tricks of Théo's had ultimately done more harm than good for her, however. The years she had spent on the streets had certainly educated her, though not in the traditional manner. Théo had learned which bakers were generous, which streets had lots of resident almsgivers, and, most importantly, how to pickpocket. Lately she had started to pass down the tricks to Gervais, and was looking forward to having a helper. But one day, she was caught with the coin purse she had filched off an old gentleman on the Rue-Saint-Denis. Typically, it wasn't an ordinary police officer who caught her. No, it was the most infamous police officer in all of Paris, Inspector Javert.

Javert was notorious among the _gamins_ for his deep, passionate devotion to upholding law and order, and also for ensuring extended prison sentences for those unfortunate criminals he caught. He spat on anyone who had ever breathed a word of _argot_, and thought that every criminal should get what he deserves. Gervais with his typical insolence mockingly called Javert "Inspector Buttoned-Up-Collar" behind his back because the Inspector always kept the coat of his uniform buttoned up to his chin, even in the sweltering heat.

_And it's thanks to dear Inspector Javert that I have six month sentence as well, _she thought bitterly. Théo had a theory of her own about justice. She believed that justice would truly be served if all men like Javert were put in prison and everyone with a generous soul could just live their lives in peace, without persecution or fear.

_Like that'll ever happen. If there's one thing I know about this world_, _it's that justice doesn't exist,_ she thought. Her reverie was interrupted by the sound of one of the guards unlocking her rusty cell door, swinging it open with a creak, putting in a new pitcher of water and tossing in some of the black crusty bread reserved for the convicts. She jumped off the bed, snatched the food before the rats could get to it, and gobbled it up with zeal. It was the only food she would get that day, and she was already weak with hunger. She swallowed the last morsel, and gulped down some water. She felt slightly better, but couldn't remember what she had been thinking about before the food was delivered.

Théo was used to losing her train of thought. It happened frequently. She didn't mind so much anymore. She secretly thought that the stress of looking after two other children, when she was only sixteen herself, had driven her mad. In reality, malnutrition and the exposure to the elements she had endured for most of her life were more to blame.

Théo lay down on the wooden bunk and tried to nap, knowing that it was futile. She didn't understand how she could endure sleeping almost anywhere outside the prison; in barns, under bridges, on park benches, on the rooftops, but she couldn't manage to sleep in her new, Spartan surroundings. It was too cold, too damp, too uncomfortable, she told herself. But she knew deep inside that it was because she was afraid. She had heard horror stories about prison from older _gamins_ and _gamines_. How you would be put next to a psychotic who would slit your throat in the night, or how the guards wouldn't care if your cellmate tried to strangle you. She had always put on a brave face for her brothers, but prison scared Théo more than even the world outside did.

Suddenly as she began to doze, a forgotten fact floated to the front of Théo's disorganized mind. She sat bolt upright in bed, heart beating wildly. _When the guard put the bread and water inside yesterday. What was it he said? _she thought, wracking her tired brain for the memory. _What was it…Mon dieu! Something about…a new cellmate._ Her stomach sank with dread. Théo was happy having a cell of her own and was afraid of what a new cellmate would mean for her. For all she knew, she would be put with a lunatic, a serial killer. But before Théo could ponder this any more, she was overcome with a wave of exhaustion brought on by hunger. Lying down again, she pushed the memory aside, and tried to enjoy the last nap she would have alone.


	2. La Gamine Qui Ressemble à Un Gamin

A/N: As usual, I do not own any aspect of Les Misérables. I only own my own original characters and my highly underlined and dogeared copy of the book. In this chapter, things get a little more interesting...

* * *

Théo's insanity had never worried her much. Most of the time, she wasn't aware of it. There were always a host of more important things to think about, such as whether that policeman noticed her taking a brioche from the bakery, or how long Raphie's cough would last. The fact that she would forget that her parents were dead and have conversations with them sometimes, or that she would forget what she was saying or thinking in the middle of a thought were hardly pressing concerns. The survival of her family, or what remained of it, was Théo's first priority.

When Théo was aware that her brain acted differently than most people's, she often thought that it was a unique condition, that no one else's mind was as fractured as hers.

That, of course, was before she met Eponine Thénardier.

- - - - -

Théo's nap was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. She propped herself up on one elbow and listened carefully. The loud clacking of boots on the stones told her one of the people walking toward her cell was a guard. Another sound was of bare feet slapping against the floor.

Before long, two figures appeared in front of Théo's cell. She sat up on the wooden bunk hastily and stared out at them through the shadows.

Escorted by the boot-wearing guard was what seemed to be a very thin, tall and filthy young boy in tattered rags. His skin was tanned by the sun, and his sunken gray eyes were flicking back and forth with the wild look of a trapped wolf. His light brown hair was partially hidden under a worn cap that was as filthy as the rest of him. His hands, of course, were manacled.

But how could Théo's new cellmate be a boy? This was Les Madelonnettes, after all.

As the guard was unlocking the cell, Théo called out, "Monsieur, wait just one moment!" She got off the bed and padded towards the barred cell door. But just then the boy pulled off his cap with a mutinous look, revealing matted long hair. She looked closely at the boy…and realized her mistake. She stopped in her tracks. "Beg your pardon," she muttered, more to the girl than to the guard.

The girl said nothing as the door of the cell swung open and she walked inside. The guard took the manacles off of her hands, walked outside the cell, locked it, and left without a word to either of them. The cellmates were alone.

"Yeah, I know what you were thinking," said the girl bitterly as she rubbed her chafed wrists. "Almost everyone thinks I'm a boy the first time they see me."

"Sorry…" Théo didn't quite know how else to respond. She suddenly felt awkward and shy. She looked at the girl again. She was actually quite beautiful. Underneath the emaciation and filth, the badges of a gamine life, there was something very alive in her eyes that Théo found enthralling.

"Sure," said the girl. "So what're you in for? How long've you been here?" she said briskly as she sat down on other bunk, across the room from Théo's.

"Pickpocketing. Been about a month. But I have five more to go, thanks to Javert. You?"

"I didn't actually do anything. It was my dad." She saw the scornful disbelief in Théo's expression. "Really! I didn't!" she exclaimed indignantly. "He had an affair going on with that gang of his, you know, Babet and Claquesous and all them? They were trying to get money off a rich old guy, as usual. He had 'Zelma and me keep watch but Javert knew what was what this time, I guess, and he caught all of us. Hey, that's funny how he caught both of us, eh?"

"Yeah…funny," Théo muttered glumly. She did not find this fact amusing in the least. "What's your name anyway?"

"Eponine Thénardier," she said, "but anyone who knows me calls me 'Ponine."

Théo gave an involuntary snort of laughter. The expression in Eponine's eyes darkened. "Think my name's funny, do you?" she snapped, with a hint of gamine bravado.

"Well not your name so much as that it's yours. You don't really look much like an Eponine to me. No offense," Théo added hastily. Something told her that she did not want this girl to be her enemy.

"You think a boy's name would be more fitting?" Eponine asked tauntingly. She saw Théo's thin body tense. "Ah…I see I've struck a nerve!" she declared gloatingly. "You never did tell me what your name was."

"Théodore Saint-Michel," she muttered. "Dad wanted a boy, then he ended up with two, plus me."

"Well,_ Théodore_, you shouldn't make fun of other people's names then, should you?" she said with a teasing smile that showed her yellowed teeth. Strangely, there was no spite in her words anymore.

"I suppose not. Anyway, call me Théo…I hate being called Théodore."

"Done."

The two girls sat in silence for several minutes. Théo watched Eponine as she looked around their cramped cell. She was staring up at the ceiling, watching one of the spiders spin its web. One of her bare legs was tucked under her and she swung the other back and forth as the blackened sole of her foot brushed against the floor. Théo could hardly believe that she had taken Eponine to be a boy at first.

After they spent several minutes like this, Eponine asked suddenly, "You said you had brothers?"

Théo was shaken out of her reverie. "Yeah. Gervais and Raphael. They're nine and five, I think. Hard to know, really, you know? I've been looking after them since my parents died." She paused for a moment. "I hope they're all right without me," she said quietly. She turned her face away from the other girl. It wasn't a habit of Théo's to talk about how she felt. Sure, she thought about things like that, but she always kept those thoughts to herself. Théo saw worries as something deeply personal, and it shocked her that she was letting her guard down to this stranger.

Eponine must have seen the worry in her face, because, to Théo's deep surprise, all at once she crossed the tiny room and sat down beside her. She took one of her hands in her own. "It's all right," she said. "I worry about my family, too." She paused a moment. "Well, I don't worry about my parents so much. But I have three little brothers, and I don't know where they are. They're out on the street somewhere, Gavroche and the others. And I don't know how Azelma will take prison at all. She's always counted on me for stuff, all our lives."

Théo found herself speechless again. This stranger, who seemed so different at first, shared the same worries as she. For the first time in her life, Théo felt as if someone understood her. Suddenly, the prospect of five more months in the prison didn't seem so lonely.

"Gavroche's your brother? I know him."

"Yeah, most people do. At least, our kind of people," she said with a roguish grin. "He's been doing all right on his own. 'Zelma's tough in her own way, too," Eponine continued. "She was always all right at helping me deliver the letters to the rich men. Oh! I never told you I could read, did I? Well I can! That's another thing I bet you couldn't tell from looking at me!" she said with something like pride. "I could be a student if I had the money. Which I guess is why we write the letters in the first place. So we can get money to do things with." She glanced down at her dress, which hardly merited the name. The number and size of the holes in it was almost obscene. "I could use some new clothes, definitely, and I know 'Zelma could too. I wonder where she is? What if she's just down the hall or something like that? That would be funny. Wonder if I can check on her sometime. And I wonder what Monsieur Marius is doing now," she added with a faraway look.

Théo was taken aback. She stared unabashedly at Eponine, her green eyes wide with wonder. She had never met anyone who spoke that quickly, and for such a long time without stopping or taking a breath. The rapidity with which she changed subjects was also remarkable. It was just like the way her own thoughts moved through her mind, with rapid succession and often with little relation to one another. She thought no one else's brain worked that way. Listening to Eponine talk was like listening to someone speaking her own thoughts aloud. It was definitely something she could get used to. Coming back to reality, Théo realized that Eponine had stopped talking.

"Who's Marius?" she asked.

Eponine's eyes lit up. For some reason, Théo felt disappointment as she noticed this, but couldn't think of why that would be. "Marius? He lives right next to me. He's a student, he's going to be a lawyer someday. I heard he's a baron too. He must be rich then. You wouldn't really think it, he always wears the same black suit. Anyway, my dad thought be must be rich too, that's how I met him at first. He found the letters that 'Zelma and I were going to deliver to rich men, and then he returned them. Right after that my dad wrote a letter for me to give to him. He gave us some money then, he's very generous, my Marius is."

"Is he your friend? Does he talk to you much?" Théo asked shrewdly.

There was a pause. "I don't really know sometimes," she answered quietly, averting her eyes. "I don't really have friends. Well, except for Montparnasse," she said, wrinkling her nose, "But he doesn't count, I don't think. Anyway, Marius is all caught up with some rich pretty girl. He doesn't think of me much, but then who does, really? He's important, at least more so than me, and he probably shouldn't be seen with me. I probably wouldn't want to be seen with me either, if I were him. It doesn't really matter though, because at least I get to see him sometimes." As she finished, she turned to look out the window, looking more hopeful than when she began.

"Oh," Théo said. What was it about this girl that always left her speechless? It was shocking to finally meet someone who was so similar to her. Just like Eponine, Théo didn't really have friends. There were several other gamins and gamines that would give her the time of day if she asked, but it was Théo's motto that the only person you can depend on is yourself. She began to think that maybe this could change as she looked at Eponine again.

"'Ponine?" she asked tentatively.

"Yeah?" Eponine answered, turning to face the other girl.

"You wanna teach me to read sometime?"

Eponine grinned. "Yeah."

Théo returned the smile. "Thanks."

"No problem. I'm going to sleep now, I didn't get any shuteye last night," she said, yawning as she walked over to her own bunk.

"Me, too," Théo said, and lay down, though for the first time in weeks, she didn't feel the least bit tired.


	3. Les Mots

A/N: I still do not own any aspect of Les Misérables. I ownly own Théo and her little gamin brothers. This chapter might have gotten a little sappy, so beware...

* * *

"…So what does this say then?" Eponine asked.

"Uhmm…" Théo squinted at the letters Eponine had scratched into the wall with a stone they found. "The…dog…went…to the Tuileries…to smell the flowers?" she dictated tentatively.

Eponine beamed. "That's right! You're getting really good at this! You learn faster than I did, at first," she exclaimed. "Well, I was a bit younger then, but you know what I mean," she added.

Théo grinned with pride. She was happy to have impressed her friend-made-teacher. It had been almost a week since Eponine's arrival, and Théo could hardly believe that she had once dreaded having a cellmate. She had never met anyone like Eponine before, and she certainly had never known anyone who was so similar to herself. The reading lessons had been going well. Théo was an enthusiastic and fast learner, and had made a good amount of progress. She was surprised that she had gotten this far in so little time, considering that the lessons were frequently interrupted by Eponine going off on conversational tangents that could last for up to an hour at a time. But Théo didn't mind. Eponine could chatter all day long, as far as she was concerned.

"All right then, just a few more, I think, and then we'll be done for today. The guard should be bringing the bread soon," Eponine continued, glancing at the window to check the sun's position. She turned toward the wall that the two girls were kneeling in front of and using as a makeshift chalkboard and inscribed another practice sentence for her pupil. After several moments she sat back, apparently satisfied.

"Go on then," she said eagerly. Sometimes it seemed to Théo that Eponine enjoyed teaching as much as she enjoyed learning.

"All right." Théo leaned in to see the words more closely. "Let's see…this says…uh…oh!" She blushed as she read the sentence. "It says, 'Théo is very intelligent and learns quickly.' Right?" she said, turning to face Eponine.

"It certainly is!" Eponine was smiling triumphantly, but Théo could see something more than triumph reflected in her gray eyes.

Before she could say any more, the girls heard the door of the cell creak open as the guard placed their food inside. "After you," said Théo politely. She didn't feel as eating was so urgent anymore. Her hunger had abated somewhat in the past few days. Besides, she wasn't about to scramble to the corner of the cell and shove 'Ponine out of her way just for some moldy bread.

"Thank you!" said Eponine with a little curtsy. She flounced over to the corner where the bread was. Théo giggled, and got up to join her.

They ate in silence, sitting cross-legged on the cell floor. It didn't take long for Théo to finish. It wasn't customary for prisoners to get generous rations; it was just a morsel each, usually. Eponine was taking longer to eat her bread. She seemed to be savoring it. Théo couldn't think of how that would be. Personally, she detested the stuff.

Théo took a swig from the water pitcher. A certain nagging thought had been following her for the last several days. Somehow, deep inside her, she knew that what she felt for Eponine wasn't just what she would feel for a friend. Not that she had an abundance of friendships that she could compare this to, but at the same time, she could tell that this was different. The way her breath caught when their eyes met, or the warmth she felt when Eponine brushed against her arm….Théo knew that it wasn't normal to feel that way for another girl. She glanced at Eponine again, taking in her rough but beautiful form. Well, she knew it wasn't normal, but she knew as well as anything else in this world that it was right.

Théo was also starting to worry. Eponine had told her that the police didn't really have a charge against her, so she probably wouldn't be there for as long as Théo would be. She often talked about how she missed "Monsieur Marius," and described his appearance and mannerisms. Théo made a face at this thought. She didn't know this Marius person, but she was beginning to hate him for being the object of Eponine's affection. And from the way Eponine had described their encounters, it didn't seem as if he deserved it either. Eponine had told Théo about how lonely she felt on the days that she did not happen to run into Marius, and about how he only wanted to see her if she had news of the other girl, Cosette. Théo didn't think it was fair of Marius to take advantage of 'Ponine that way. She would get very upset on Eponine's behalf whenever they spoke about Marius. In a way, Théo felt very protective of Eponine. They were so alike; it seemed that she felt the same pain that Eponine had endured. Théo had also realized that they both desperately needed to love and be loved. She wanted so badly to be able to give Eponine happiness. She sighed. More than that, Théo couldn't imagine being stuck in that dingy cell without her only friend. She was at a loss, and despair was beginning to close in on her.

Suddenly, Théo had an idea. She knew how to make things right, make Eponine see that she was wanted here, that she wasn't on her own after all. Slowly, she stood up, heart beating wildly, and made her way over to the wall where the Eponine had scratched in the practice sentences.

Eponine looked up. "What're you doing over there?" she asked.

Théo didn't respond. If her concentration was broken, she was afraid she would abandon the idea entirely.

Théo picked up the rock and kneeled in front of the wall. Slowly, she raised her trembling hand and began to write.

It took her a few minutes to finish the two sentences. She hadn't been able to write more than one word at a time before. When she finished, she turned around, only to see that Eponine had already come over to the wall. She was reading the messages with an inscrutable expression on her face. It seemed like ages until she turned to look at Théo.

At first, she said nothing. For once, Théo could see nothing of Eponine's feelings in her eyes. After a moment, she finally spoke.

"'Eponine is beautiful. Théo loves her,'" she read quietly. "No one's ever told me that before," she said in a whisper.

Théo didn't know how to respond. She didn't even know if Eponine expected her to say anything more. There was a long pause. Théo began to panic. They couldn't just sit in silence forever. She knew she had to say something now, or it wouldn't really mean anything.

"Which one?" she asked softly, as she slowly edged closer to her friend.

Eponine turned away. Théo's heart sank. She was afraid that she had ruined everything. How could she have been so stupid?

Eponine was silent for a moment. Then, she said almost inaudibly, "Both of them."

Suddenly, without thinking about what she was doing or thinking about what might happen, Théo leaned in close to the other girl and kissed her gently on the mouth.

Théo had no way of telling whether it was an instant or a month before they broke apart. To her relief and happiness, she saw that Eponine was smiling at her, her face flushed and her eyes bright.

She glanced away awkwardly and cleared her throat. "Well," she said, "we should probably keep going with your lessons, since you showed me that you can write so well now."

Théo grinned and nodded. She couldn't recall ever feeling this happy. The feeling of being content just where she was and not wishing to be anywhere else in the world was strange and new to her. Théo smiled to herself as she watched Eponine pick up the rock again. She wondered how she would ever be able to keep her concentration on the simple lessons again.


	4. L'Amour Avec Des Illusions

A/N I seem to be making it a habit to update quickly...let's see how long that lasts. Thanks to LesMisLoony and M.Leblanc for their praise and helpful criticism in their reviews! I hope that this chapter will end all ideas about a Mary-Sue OC in this story...

As usual, I do not own any aspect of Les Misérables. I just own Théo. For those of you who would find this interesting, the idea of naming a female character "Théo" came from a girl in my French class. She chose that as her French name on the first day of class in seventh grade, not realizing that it was a boy's name and short for "Théodore." When informed of this fact, she decided to keep it anyway and it's been her French name ever since. My Théo is not based on this Théo in any way except for the name, however.

Also, Eponine's song is taken directly from a scene in the book.

* * *

The days that followed the kiss encompassed the best and worst times of Théo's life. They mostly consisted of the mundane events that make up prison life, but they were punctuated by exchanges that illustrate the two cellmates' descent into mutual adoration and parallel delusion, which, after all, are not very different states of mind.

The next morning, Théo was woken by the sound of soft singing. She rolled over to see that Eponine was already awake and sitting up on her own bunk. Though the two girls had shared that first kiss, and several after, each still possessed the same modesty that she would if she were in a relationship with a young man instead of a young woman. Therefore, neither had suggested that they share the same wooden bunk, though Théo at least had the desire to do so.

Eponine was singing a song that was unfamiliar to Théo, but seemed to her to be the sort of tune that it was her habit to hum:

Nos amours ont duré tout une semaine,

Mais que du bonheur les instants sont courts!

S'adorer huit jours, c'était bien la peine!

Le temps des amours devrait durer toujours!

Devrait durer toujours! Devrait durer toujours!

At the end of this verse she stopped to see Théo staring. She grinned, though Théo could see that her eyes were a little bloodshot and had a somewhat glazed look. It was obvious that she had not slept the previous night.

"Good morning, _ma chèrie!_" she exclaimed cheerfully. "Did you sleep well? I hope I didn't wake you with my singing. I'm terrible, you know, I probably shouldn't do it all, but I forget sometimes. You know how it is, too many thoughts, so little brain to keep it all straight in," she chattered.

"You didn't wake me and you're not terrible," Théo lied. "Just try not to do it so early, all right? We're not all night owls like you," she yawned.

Eponine's smile vanished. It was obvious that she thought she had fooled Théo into thinking she had slept the night before. "Of course," she said. "I'll try to remember."

"I know you will," Théo said, walking across the room to give Eponine a clumsy peck on the cheek. It gave her satisfaction to see Eponine begin to blush as she looked away shyly. _For a girl who's seen all parts of life on the streets she's awfully shy,_ thought Théo. _Maybe she's not used to it. I know I'm not._

She walked over to the wall where they had scratched in the practice sentences and the declaration of affection the day before. As she read the inscriptions again, she heard Eponine begin humming the same song again. She chuckled to herself as she listened to the words. They seemed fitting for this situation; though their love might only last a week, it was worth the pain.

The singing stopped, and all at once she felt Eponine embrace her from behind. She jumped, startled, but relaxed against the other girl's body.

"Mm, hello there," murmured Théo as Eponine kissed her neck gently. Eponine stopped after a moment.

"You know that I love you, right, Marius?"

Théo froze. Her insides felt as if they had turned to stone. She broke away from Eponine and turned around to face her.

"I'm Théo, not Marius. Marius isn't here," she said slowly and forcefully, staring hard into Eponine's eyes, searching frantically for something more human behind them than the same unnerving light.

"I know that!" Eponine snapped, turning away from Théo. "I didn't say Marius!"

"Yes, you did, Eponine! I heard it," Théo responded, beginning to raise her voice. If she had been unsettled at all before by Eponine's demeanor, she certainly was now.

"All right! Fine! I did. So what? I made a mistake, big deal. Everyone messes up sometimes! It's not a big mistake to make!" Eponine yelled back, her gaunt face flushed, the feverish gleam in her eyes more apparent than ever. She threw herself on her bunk and turned away from Théo.

Théo was about to keep on shouting at Eponine, but stopped herself with some effort. She realized she was shaking.

"You're right, Eponine, it's not a big mistake. I'm sorry," Théo said calmly. She was lying again, of course. It was a big mistake, and a very big one at that. This exchange had shaken her deeply and she was still very upset with Eponine. Just when Théo thought she had something real and good to hold onto in her life, it turned out that she had deceived herself into false happiness once again.

Eponine wasn't listening to Théo's insincere apology, however. Much to her chagrin, Eponine had begun singing that insipid song again.

"…Mais que du bonheur les instants sont courts!

S'adorer huit jours, c'était bien la peine..."

She was sitting on the bunk and staring at the wall blankly. All of Théo's patience left her.

"Eponine!" she shouted angrily. "Are you even listening to me?"

But Eponine only began singing louder, and, if it was possible, staring at the wall more intensely. She repeated Eponine's name again, to no avail. Unable to control herself, Théo slapped Eponine across the face. Eponine gasped with pain and surprise and looked up at Théo. The odd light was all but absent from her gray eyes now. Instead they were wide with shock and fear.

Overcome with remorse, Théo kissed Eponine hard. "_Mon Dieu, _Eponine, I'm sorry," Théo said softly. "I don't know where that came from." What had gotten into her? Hurting the only person who cared if she lived or died in this horrid place was the last thing Théo wanted to do, even if that person was more than half insane. Eponine was sweet and kind, but insane. Théo realized this fully now.

"Don't worry yourself about me, _chèrie. _We both made a mistake, no?" Eponine said, smiling again.

Théo smiled back. Looking into Eponine's eyes with their uncanny shine again, she convinced herself, for the time being, at least, that it didn't matter.

The girls had not mentioned the fight for the rest of the day, but instead kept their conversations limited to sweet nothings, pleasantries, and the occasional anecdote about their lives outside prison. Eponine told more about the gang her father was in, called Patron-Minette, and about his role in it, which in reality was not so important. She talked about the letter-writing scams, and about how her father had made the family go by the alias "Jondrette."

"Of course, I forgot about that when I came here. When I met you I told you my real name by accident. I should have told you I was Eponine Jondrette, not Thénardier. Oh, well, I hope 'Zelma kept to the plan," she had said.

In turn, Théo had told Eponine some stories from her adventures on the streets with her brothers. All the while, they took care to keep the conversation away from Eponine's feelings for Marius. Neither wanted to relive the morning's argument or the pain it had caused.

Now, however, it was midnight. Théo was still wide awake, and she knew Eponine was too, despite her efforts to lie still and breathe slowly. Though she was exhausted, Théo could not get to sleep. She kept replaying the argument in her head, analyzing it, picking it apart, looking for some evidence that Eponine had made a genuine mistake and did not wish that she was holding Marius instead of Théo that morning. It was no use. She had to either accept her own conclusion on the matter or ask Eponine outright who she loved. Had she truly forgotten Marius or was Théo just someone to pass the time with? Was there any way of knowing?

All of the uncertainty running through Théo's tired mind soon gave rise to another emotion: fear. As time went by, she could feel her whole self being consumed by it; her breathing quickened, she felt lightheaded, and she could hear her heart thumping loudly. This had happened before, and the first occurrence was always an indication of worse to come in the following weeks. Théo was plagued by bouts anxiety and despair that transformed her life into hell for weeks at a time. If the anxiety happened in the daytime, she would try to calm herself down by concentrating on something simple, like counting cobblestones. But more often they happened at night, and then there was no escape. Sometimes she would think that her heart was beating so fast that she would die, but then after an hour or so it would slow down, and the fear would ebb, and she would finally fall asleep, only to wake up the next morning to dread it happening again the next night.

In her heart she knew she was as damaged as Eponine. She only had better control over it. But she told herself that it wasn't a problem, that she could handle it, and sometimes she convinced herself that it just wasn't happening at all.

It was a habit of hers to deceive herself into thinking that things were under control. Her mind crafted its own reality around her world's true events, and she was usually able to keep it stable. Stability was what she so desperately needed, and so she made it for herself. That was what she had done when Eponine had said the wrong name. She told herself that it was a mistake and moved on, saying that it didn't matter, just like always.

But now? Now she couldn't do that. She had lost the ability to tell herself lies. Her one defense was gone to her, taken by a girl with shining gray eyes.

An hour later, or it might have been a year, Théo whispered to Eponine through the darkness.

"Psst! Eponine?"

"Mm?"

She took a deep breath. "Do you love…him?" She couldn't make herself say the name.

"Who?"

"Marius," she said finally.

"You know that I love you, what a silly question. Now go to sleep, Monsieur."

Théo grit her teeth and dug her fingernails into her forearm to keep herself from crying audibly. She did not sleep that night. The sounds of her reality crumbling kept her awake until morning.


End file.
